Fear of Falling
by Sable Supernova
Summary: Barty and Luna both felt like they were never supposed to be together, and yet were destined for each other, at the same time. It doesn't help that everyone else seems to have an opinion about them. Will their secrets and differences tear them apart in the end? Or will a greater force come inmto play?
1. Recovery

Written for Assignment 1 for Flying Lessons, over at Hogwarts. The prompt for this chapter was 'beginnings', and I also used the prompt: people are watching the stars in the story.

Words: 1157

* * *

 **Recovery**

Luna would never forget the first time they had kissed. It was only a month ago, but she knew even then that she would remember it in her old age as fresh as yesterday.

Crowds had gathered in the park to watch the shower of shooting stars, each one a wish yet to be made, a dream yet to be realised. Luna was not watching the stars. She'd done her fair share of wishing, on shooting stars and dandelion seeds, birthday candles and pennies thrown into wells. She couldn't count the wishes she had made. She could count the ones that had come true on one hand. People had still died; love had still been lost; she had still been afraid.

Instead, she watched the candlelight as it danced in his eyes, and smiled. He was the boy who had lost everything in the fire, time and time again, and she was here to save him. It felt like exactly what she'd been put here to do when his fingers wrapped themselves around hers. When they kissed, there were no fireworks, no dancing lights. Instead, the world around them faded to nothingness, black and cold beside their warmth. There was nothing but the two of them, their lungs, their hearts, their lips. Barty and Luna.

It had taken them many long weeks to get to that kiss, but they could finally say now that they were at the beginning of something. A month later, it still felt like they were. They were still getting to know themselves as much as each other. It was as though they were each two people, in many ways. Before The War them, and After The War them. It was no secret that it was Barty who had changed the most.

He had been threatened with the Dementor's Kiss - the Daily Prophet had even announced that he had suffered its touch - but the Healers of St Mungo's had carried out a psychological analysis and ruled that course of action out of the question. Instead, he'd been treated in a private ward for various mental illnesses. Narcissistic Personality Disorder was chief amongst them, alongside episodes of deep psychosis. But he was on the mend, and they released him. Then he met Luna.

Her light met his dark; her vivacity met his listlessness. Both calmed and excited the other. Both were scared of the unknown, and drawn towards it. It took them six months to get to that kiss.

A month later, on a Saturday morning, the fear was still there.

"The news on a Saturday is always different to the news during the week," Luna mused after swallowing a mouthful of her cereal.

"That's because the office drones read the news at weekend. Wouldn't want to scare the ones with the money too much. The poor, unfortunate souls without jobs are attracted to the horror of the darker stories. Keeps 'em buying," Barty commented, smirking.

"You don't always have to be so melodramatic," Luna reminded him.

"They've corrupted you, too. I hear enough of that from those blasted Healers. I thought I could be myself in my own home," he sneered. Luna froze, for just a moment, before she settled.

"I'm only trying to help, dear. There are more ways of thinking than yours," she told him.

"Rich, coming from you. The girl who condemns men she has never met as evil. My old friends, as a matter of fact. What makes them the evil ones, and you the saint?" he asked, taking a slow sip of his coffee.

"Nothing," Luna said. "Nothing but the fact of which side won." She looked away from him, staring out of the window as she thought. "That's how history works, isn't it?"

Barty looked shocked for a moment, her reaction not being what he expected. He could no longer find his voice.

"Have you taken your potions yet, dear?" Luna asked, smiling a little.

He looked away. "Not yet."

"I'll go and get them for you."

* * *

That was how things had settled between them, what comfort began to mean. At that kitchen table, over breakfast, they were safe. The outside world did not agree.

Luna wouldn't tell him, but her job at The Quibbler was at risk. People condemned her choice of bedfellow, and with that came questions about her very integrity, her reliability, her allegiances. They did not care for the long nights she had spent alone, staring at her own ceiling, feeling nothing. They did not care what the war had done to her, and how much she needed him. They only cared for the war itself - not what had come after.

Barty wouldn't tell her, but he was terrified of leaving the house. He had attempted to go outside for a smoke, and was overwhelmed with such panic and dread, shaking and unable to catch a breath, that he'd locked the door tight and had to sit down. The worst of it was that the fear wasn't irrational. He was hated and vilified by the majority of the Wizarding community, and they did not hesitate to let him know.

The first time he had experienced it was on a trip to the local shop to buy milk. He thought the area of London he lived in was perfectly muggle, exactly the kind of area he wanted to recover in. But that was before he saw them. A perfectly ordinary family, by any accounts, stood at the till. The father was struggling with his coins as Barty walked by; an oblivious onlooker might have mistaken him for a foreigner. His wife caught sight of Barty first, gasping as she grasped her husband's sleeve. Barty froze in fear, trying to remember what the Healers had taught him about breathing and controlling his thoughts - it all went out the window when the man rounded on him.

"You. Murder, torture, manipulation. The horrors you have inflicted! And they let you walk free," he said, spitting on Barty's jacket with venom in his words. Barty tried to back away, but he felt his shoulders against the cold glass of the shop window. The son started it, with a tomato. But once the first item was thrown, they all joined in. It briefly crossed Barty's mind that they would have done worse if not surrounded by muggles.

When he'd got home, he hadn't said a word. Luna still didn't know. He'd sat awake all night, wondering what had become of him. The great Barty Crouch Junior, reduced to a quivering wreck.

They both knew that the other kept secrets, as well as they knew they kept them themselves. But that was okay. Their secrets made them feel safe, secure. They couldn't speak of them. But that meant neither of them could speak of their fear that their secrets would prove to be the death of them.

They supposed that nothing would tell but time.


	2. Homicidal

Written for Flying Lessons, Assignment 2, over at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for the lesson:

Task: For the second chapter of your collection, I would like you to consider the theme of misunderstanding. There should be a visible conflict between your pairing in the story, or even a conflict between your pairing and another person. As with landings, things can quickly go wrong, resulting in a poor landing. However, you can quickly get back on your feet and recover, and this should reflect in your story!

And the extra prompt, to be used as a last line: (dilogue) "I never want you to leave."

Overall prompt: (object) bottle of Firewhiskey

* * *

 **Homicidal**

The Quibbler's office in Ottery St. Catchpole was not an exciting place. Filing cabinets were far from tidy, with stacks of parchment high on their tops. The ground floor, reserved for the journalists, was open and bright with a small kitchen through the back. Luna headed through and towards the stairs in silence. Before the Daily Prophet had caught photographs of her with Barty, she would walk through the room with her head held high, smiling at her colleagues and stopping to share an anecdote. Now, they eyed her with suspicion.

The Quibbler was known for it's open-mindedness and love of the unknown, but even so it had proven, during the war, exactly which side it stood Quibbler had been fiercely loyal to Harry Potter, and every man and woman here knew exactly what Barty had done during the war. Her father, the Editor-In-Chief, was the most accepting of the relationship, but even he feared for his daughter's safety when she returned home to a convicted criminal and mentally ill man in the evenings.

She also knew that some of her co-workers were watching her every move, watching for every little mistake she made. They raised each little thing they found to Xenophilius in the hopes that one of them was a sackable offence, wanting the bad blood of Barty Crouch Jr as far away from them as possible.

Her father would not tell her which members of staff were raising these concerns, but Luna could guess. She'd learnt to recognise those cold,hard stares of hatred long ago.

Suppressing a sigh, she turned the handle of her office door and stepped inside, noting that the Secretary had already brought her post up for her, as she often was a letter from the Ministry addressed to her father, as she dealt with some of the more technical sides of the business for him, and a few advertisements of services from editors and journalists the world over, hoping for freelance work. She would deal with those later. At the bottom of the pile, however, something caught her attention. It was an advertisement with a note attached, that read: "Saw this and thought of you x".

Luna read the advert and a sense of dread settled in her stomach as bile rose up in her throat.

 _Book an appointment with our World Class solicitors today to write your Last Will and Testament. Don't hesitate! Write to us today! Tomorrow may be too late._

Whether it was a death threat or a comment on Barty's instability, Luna didn't know, but she was certain she didn't want to. Either way, it was full of malice and intent, and Luna knew she could not show him. She shoved it into her handbag, immediately hoping she could forget she had ever received it, but all the same knowing it would plague her mind for a long time to come.

She set about reading the articles seeking her approval with shaking fingers and a pounding heart.

* * *

The rest of Luna's day was busy and stressful. The new issue was due to go to print at the end of the week, and there was a lot of tying up of loose ends to be completed. As the primary Sub-Editor, a lot of this work fell on Luna's shoulders while her father worked on the features and cover. They had a large exposé on Heliopaths due, after a recent sighting in Argentina, and Xenophilius was desperate to get it right.

When she returned home, she'd almost forgotten about the advert sat in the bottom of her bag. She headed straight for the kitchen and turned on the kettle, listening for Barty's footfalls on the stairs as he came down to greet her. Taking a mug from the cupboard and reaching for the coffee jar, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her as a face pressed into her neck, and she relaxed against him immediately with a deep sigh.

"Hello," he said before kissing her collarbone.

"Hi," she replied with a smile.

"Stressful day?" he asked.

"Yes," she almost laughed, knowing stressful didn't cover half of it.

"Let me make that for you," he said, stepping around her to reach for the mug and teaspoon.

"Oh, I didn't lock the door!" she remembered suddenly. "Could you lock it for me?"

"My keys are upstairs," he replied, half-complaining. Barty and Luna had devised a special locking mechanism for their front door, that mixed both magic and muggle technology. It would not be beaten by a simple master key or copy, or by even the most skilled Alohomora. It required a combination of both to lock or unlock the front and back doors and windows. It made them feel just a little more secure.

"Mine are in my handbag," she replied, and he walked off to comply with the request.

It was a few moments later when the inevitable happened.

"What's this?" he asked, holding the keys in one hand and an unsuspecting piece of paper in his other, which he was reading with a dark look. Luna's stomach fell to the floor.

"It's nothing," she replied, trying to brush it off.

She heard him go to lock the door before he came back to the kitchen, arms folded as he looked at her.

"No it's not."

"It is if I say it is," she replied, not looking at him as she poured the hot water into her coffee, her voice unnaturally high.

"It's a death threat, Luna, that's not nothing." His voice was dark and it unnerved Luna.

She turned around to face him. "I don't think it is," she admitted, biting her lip.

"What do you mean?"

"I think… I think it's a comment about you. About us. Which is why I'm not taking it seriously," she told him, pushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. His eyes clouded over in understanding as he let his arms fall to his sides.

"Oh."

"Exactly," she sighed, turning back to her drink.

"I have killed people."

The words fell like a lead weight between them, plunging them into a dead silence.

"I know."

"And you just accept that and move on?" he asked, trying to comprehend her decisions.

"Yes," she told him. "Because it wasn't you, not really. You were ill. You still are. It was the part of your brain that doesn't work properly that did those things, the doctors said so. Not you, not as you are."

He began to advance on her, a look in his eyes that unnerved Luna.

"But it was me. I know it was me," he began, his brown eyes turning black. "I know it was me because I remember them. Each and every one. I remember the screams, the delicious screams that made my heart sing." He was trying to frighten her, she knew, and she was ashamed to say it was working. "Every Crucio I ever uttered, every Killing Curse has imprinted itself on the inside of my skull. It was me. You need to accept that. You need to know that as well as you know the taste of my kiss. Do you understand?"

Luna nodded even as tears formed in her eyes, and they both knew that her nod was a lie. She didn't want to know it. She didn't want to know any of it. She was the girl able to make sense of the weirdest and most wonderful machinations of the human mind, but this was far beyond her comprehension. She had consoled herself with the knowledge that it was all in his past, but the way he spoke now had her questioning that resolve.

"Did you think it was all in my past? That it was another me, another man that lived in the time before?" he asked her.

"Barty, stop it. Stop it!" she shouted as the tears began to fall, hating herself for not being strong enough.

"Luna, if you're lying to yourself about me, about who I am, then you're going to wake up one morning and the truth is going to hit you like a kick to the stomach. You're going to realise you've made a massive mistake, and you'll have nowhere left to run. All of _this_ ," he gestured to the advert, waving it at her, "will be for nothing. Do you understand?" he asked her again.

"Yes," she said, knowing it was true. She understood exactly what he was telling her, and she understood it was the truth.

"And do you accept it?" he asked her.

"I don't know."

As Barty walked away, Luna sank into a chair at the kitchen table and felt dread settle within her.

She sat there for a long time, thinking. Pulling a bottle of Firewhiskey down from the shelf, she unscrewed the lid and poured herself out a glass with a sigh. She had a lot to think about. He had been honest with her today, more honest than he had ever been before, and Luna had been left with a choice. It was hours before the realisation struck her.

As she headed up the stairs, she did so with a smile on her face, confident in her decision. She had no idea what time it was, but she was not surprised to find him sat up in bed reading. He was not one for early nights, anyway.

He looked at her, waiting for whatever words would come, resigned to accept them.

"I accept," she said, walking towards him. As she sunk into the bed, she let his arms surround her as she lay beside him, breathing him in.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes. All those things you said are true. I know. But you took those facts and you did the kindest thing you could have done with them. You laid them at my feet and gave me the choice. I choose you," she told him, sealing her words with a kiss that he returned fervently.

"Thank you," he told her, allowing his face to relax and his emotions to show through. "If you ever receive anything like that again, I want you to tell me. If you ever found out who it is, I want you to tell me."

"Why?" she asked, suddenly afraid again. "What will you do?"

"Nothing unless you ask me to. I just want to know. I want to be prepared," he told her.

Luna looked him dead in the eye, reading everything he didn't say. There was a tone to his voice that Luna was half hoping she was imagining that said he was expecting her to ask. But his words also spoke of affection, of a protectiveness, of a need for honesty. That proved what she knew in her heart. He was a changed man, and he was hers.

She smiled before she said, "I love you."

"I love you too," he said, matching her smile. "I wasn't sure I'd cope without you. I never want you to leave."


	3. Obsession

**_Written for Assignment 3 of Flying Lessons at Hogwarts, for the prompt: Speed._**

 ** _Prompts:_**

 _(phrase) "Like a bat out of hell"_

 _(word) Accelerated_

 _(plot) A baby features. Either the birth of the pairings own baby, or someone else's._

 ** _Lesson:_**

 _For the third chapter of your collection, I would like you to consider the idea of relationships moving too fast. Perhaps a character is worried that the relationship may have progressed too quickly, or maybe a character is moving too quickly for the other character. Maybe they have jumped into an early marriage or gotten pregnant too soon. Speed and moving fast should be the theme here!_

 _ **Words:** 2043_

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Obsession**

They called it a private ward, but there were mornings when he would wake up unable to distinguish it from his prison cell for a few moment. A single bed, bolted to the floor, with rounded legs and corners. The bedsheets were taken away in the mornings, and the covers, just in case. There were no pipes in the room, a toilet with no flush, a sink for washing your hands. If you tried anything with the sink, like filling it up and sticking your head in, holding it under the water for as long as you could, it sounded a warning. A nice, loud alarm bell, ringing, calling the white-coats.

They said the first step in his recovery was calming down. They said he jumped from emotion to emotion like a bee between flowers, but never let them touch the surface. They gave him a potion they said was a sedative for the first few weeks.

Lying in his bed in the middle of the day, staring at his ceiling, attempting to order his thoughts into coherent sentences and work up the energy to stand and find food, he decided he didn't like sedatives.

They began his course of counselling, then. He would sit on a hard chair in a room that was too white, while an ageing man with glasses that kept sliding down his face considered him, asking him how he felt.

"Well, I feel as though these walls are too bright. Have you considered a cream?" Barty asked, answering the question. The whole set up felt like a sordid game to him, and he did not want to be on the losing team.

The old man sighed, tapping his pen on his clipboard. "Barty, this will not work if you aren't honest with me."

"Oh, but I am being honest. My mother would have had a fit if I'd have shown so much honesty to her about her living room," Barty explained.

Counselling had never worked. Instead, after much trial and error, they found that a combination of pills and potions and teaching him skills and techniques worked best. It was a slow process, not helped by his unwillingness, but they made progress.

* * *

Luna had begun to volunteer at St Mungo's every Saturday afternoon when she'd left Hogwarts. It had felt rewarding, and offered interesting perspectives with which to consider her work at the Quibbler.

She knew the names of the patients she helped, of course. She remembered the things they told her, what they liked. But she didn't grow attached.

"Luna, we've got a patient who's a little bit more challenging than you're used to, but we'd like you to sit with him for a while, if that's okay," the nurse had told her with a hopeful smile as she chewed her bottom lip.

"How is he challenging?" Luna queried.

"He's intelligent, very intelligent. He'll twist your words. And he won't co-operate," the nurse explained. Luna resisted an urge to smile.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked. The nurse opened her mouth to speak but, thinking better of it, handed over his chart instead. If Luna was to help with his care, even in such a small way, she needed to know what she was up against.

* * *

The door clicked open and Barty looked up. His face was stoic as he took in the long, bright blonde hair, her multi-coloured floral dress and purple tights. He saw her smile, and was taken aback. People didn't smile at him. Not like that. People smiled by pulling their lips tight while their eyes focused in concern and fear. This woman, her face was relaxed, her eyes bright and wrinkled at the corners. She was really smiling.

"You're smiling," he commented.

"Is it not custom to when you meet someone new?" she asked him.

"Not when that someone is me."

"Maybe that depends on who's meeting you," she said as she wandered into the room, taking a seat on the chair that faced his bed. Her visitors' pass dangled from her neck as she moved, and Barty understood.

"You're a Saturday volunteer, aren't you? Is it Saturday already?" he asked.

"It is. It must be hard to keep track in this place. All the days must be so alike that they sort of merge into one for you," she mused, wondering about his situation in comparison to her own. She realised that as a visitor here, she had a vast privilege.

"And you can bask in the gloriousness of never being able to understand that," he told her. "It must be nice, being able to break out of this place like a bat out of hell when the bell rings."

"Actually, I have some experience of it all; not being able to escape and the days and nights all fusing together," she replied with a dark smile. His head turned towards her, ever so slightly, as his eyes narrowed. For the first time in many months, he was interested. He wanted to know something. Luna knew already that she'd be able to count this one a success.

* * *

"You don't mind me staying here, do you? It's no trouble?" he asked her from his perch on the settee. It amused Luna how Barty always tried to take up as little space as possible, as if he was imposing on her in some way.

"Not at all. I like the company," she told him with a smile, barely looking up from her book.

"If you're sure. I do have my own place, it's just that it's so big, and empty. Memories lurk around every corner, and they aren't… they aren't all happy," he explained.

"It's okay."

"The Doctor said that I should surround myself with positive things, is all. He said I should hide the negative things away so they don't affect me too much. I just find that hard when the negative things are all around," he admitted, staring at the carpet.

"When my mother died, my dad wanted to move out. He wanted a new house where there weren't any memories of her. They were too painful. But I didn't let him. I made him stay, because I'd spent my whole life in that house, and I couldn't bear to lose everything. It took him thirteen years, but eventually he thanked me. The pain of his loss was overwhelming, and he wanted to pretend it wasn't happening, but now that it's all over, the memories show him the happy times, the love and beauty she possessed. It's both the positive and the negative that makes us who we are," she told him.

"You're right, of course. I hope that one day, I'm able to face both as friends again."

* * *

"The doctor says I need a hobby," Barty told her, walking in to the living room.

"You've mentioned it, dear," Luna replied, barely glancing up.

He took a seat next to her and rested a hand on her knee. "I found one."

She looked up, intrigued, taking in his wide eyes and smile.

"He said I needed to find something exciting, something I can focus my energy on. Something I can turn to when I need an escape, and something I can get better at with time. Yes?"

Luna nodded, unsure what he had he found.

"Well, my hobby, is being in love with you," he said with a smile.

Luna blinked at him, twice, and opened her mouth as if to to find the words, she promptly closed it again and stared.

Eventually, she worked up the courage. "Didn't the doctor also say that you shouldn't get obsessed over anything, and that you should try to balance things?"

"The doctor said a lot of things, I don't remember them all," Barty grinned as he kissed her shoulder. "So long as I do most of them, I'll be okay."

* * *

Luna picked up the post, looking at the letter from Harry with a smile. They'd gotten into the habit of writing a few months ago now, and Luna loved reading them. She settled into her kitchen chair and slid her finger under the seal so that she could read. It never said anything interesting, of course, but that didn't matter to Luna. Ron and Hermione were fighting again, he was thinking of proposing to Ginny - all the usual.

"Oh, Fleur had her baby!" Luna announced, the only piece of interesting information she could see. Barty surprised her when he smiled.

"A boy or a girl?" he asked.

"A girl, born on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. They called her Victoire," Luna told him, reading the letter.

"I love children, you know. I always wanted my own. Maybe we could have children," he mused.

Luna gave a nervous giggle. "Is it not a little soon to be talking about children?" she asked.

Barty shrugged. "Why? What's the point in waiting?" he stood and made his way around her, leaning forward to kiss her neck. "In fact, we could start trying right now," he suggested.

"Stop it, Barty," she admonished, leaning away a little.

"Don't you want children?" he asked.

"Of course I do," she responded. She'd always wanted children, she knew that. She wanted to fill their minds with wonder at the world and watch them grow.

"Well, what's the problem?"

Luna had to think about that one.

Actually, Luna did a lot of thinking about that one. Just a few months ago, she'd never officially met him. It had been seven months since his release from the hospital, and in that time, he'd ingrained himself as a part of her life. He was a new constant.

In fact, as Luna thought about it, a lot of the things that had happened naturally suddenly felt like they'd been on a rollercoaster. He'd never officially moved in, but he'd been spending more and more time at her house since his release until they decided it was silly paying for two houses and he'd rented his out. They'd fallen into a routine so easily, and now he was talking about children. All of a sudden, it felt as though the whole relationship had accelerated at a pace she was not content with, and she began to panic.

Had he become too attached? Was loving her his coping mechanism? It was possible, of course, but she just didn't know. How could she know? She'd never been where he was. She'd never known anything quite like him.

It didn't help that so many people were against the relationship. That was the hurdle they should be facing, she couldn't help but think. One thing at a time.

* * *

She found him in the second bedroom, which Luna used to keep all of her books, reading the book he'd been given to help him cope with his illnesses. Luna thought the book was useless, but she hadn't told him as much. It seemed to be helping him, at least. He looked up when she walked in and smiled, though his eyes betrayed his worry.

"Luna," he breathed, as if he hadn't expected her.

"Hello," she said, moving towards him. "I've been thinking."

"I know," he said. "That's what you usually do when you disappear off into your own little world. What about?"

"Children," she told him with a nod. He stood and met her in the middle of the room, running a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to. I just… I get carried away with myself. I don't think of the consequences. And I love you. I really love you, and I want this to work."

Luna smiled. "I know. I just don't want things to move so fast we don't have the time to see if we're making mistakes. I think there are other hurdles we should attempt to jump first."

Barty's eyes narrowed. "Such as?"

"I want you to meet my dad. I want to invite him over for dinner."

Barty froze, a deer in the headlights. It was a big step for him. Bigger, he thought, than having children. But she was right. The world needed to see them as they were, not as it thought they were.

"Okay."


	4. Selfish

For Flying Lessons Assignment 4

Lesson: Enduring an obstacle and overcoming it.

Prompts: A major argument and "You're not from New York City, you're from Rotherham."

Words: 1481

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Selfish**

"I'm not going."

"Yes, you are," Luna told him with a sigh. Dinner had been arranged for a week, but as the days passed, Barty drew more and more withdrawn about the whole thing, ending in his current adamancy that he was staying right where he was, in the living room with a book and a firewhiskey.

"Why, Luna? What on earth could I gain from it?" he asked. Luna suppressed a snort. _Of course,_ she thought _, it was about what_ he _could get out of it._

"Me," she told him, bitter and angry.

Barty smiled. "But I already have you, dear."

"Do you?" she asked, her voice raised. "Or is that just wishful thinking?" She was angry now, angry at him and his attitude to everything. Why didn't he see how important this was to her?

"Luna, your father _hates_ me. That's a fact, okay, and it's not going to go away. It doesn't matter what I say! You're smart; can't you see that? Why play at happy families when it's going to end in tears?" he asked, beginning to stand.

"Drop the attitude!" she told him, suddenly feeling as though she was talking to a child. "Of course he won't like you if you show him your worst!"

"Forget it, okay. I know what the world thinks of me; I don't need some fool to tell me. I don't need anyone in my life but you, and I don't for the life of me understand why you can't see that," he argued.

"Because it's not about you! Merlin, you're infuriating! Do you need me to spell it out for you?" she shouted. "There are things that happen that are not about you, okay? There are things in my life that are not about you! You don't need anyone but me? Well, that's great! Bully for you! I need people. I've lived my life surrounded by people." Suddenly, Luna found herself bursting into tears, and she turned away from him. She didn't want him to see her weak. "You can't even let me have that," she whispered before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her for good measure.

She headed upstairs into their bedroom. She wasn't expected at her dad's for another half an hour, and she would fix up her make up, put on her bravest face and go alone if she had to. She reasoned her father might be in a better mood that way. She looked in the mirror and pointed her wand at the jagged black lines that ran below her eyes, intent on removing them, when something glinted behind her, catching her attention.

She walked over to the bookshelf and picked up the dainty ornament. A sea shell, in a bright cerulean, fell light and smooth into the palm of her hand. She'd found it on the beach with her dad when she was young, and she'd been filled with wonder. The shells around it were shades of brown and mother-of-pearl, but this shell - this shell was marvelous. She remembered her father's words exactly—how he had told her that she was that shell; how her colours shone differently to everyone else's; and how that made her beautiful.

She didn't feel beautiful right now. In fact, she didn't even feel all that different from anyone else. She felt like a normal girl who just had a perfectly normal argument with her boyfriend.

And she needed her dad.

She began to head downstairs. The plan had been that they would travel there by Floo, but she knew Barty was in the living room. She didn't want to face him, not now, so she made for the door and stepped outside to Apparate. She hoped her father wouldn't ask too many questions, and be grateful for her company.

She approached the imposing black cylinder on the edge of Ottery St. Catchpole and felt a sense of alienation. This was her home for a long time, and here she was, about to knock on the door to be let in. She'd grown up and moved on, but she was starting to wonder if that was with the wrong person.

She sighed and knocked, waiting for her father.

"Luna," he greeted when he opened the door, pulling her into a warm embrace. Luna was inundated with the smells of home, and was instantly calmer. It was like a form of meditation, just being with her father.

"Did Barty not want to join you in the end?" he asked as she stepped in and headed towards the kitchen.

Luna drew in a deep sigh. "It's complicated," she admitted, hoping she would not have to elaborate. They were interrupted, however, by crashes and bangs from the living room.

Instantly on edge and alert, the father and daughter made for the source of the commotion, wands raised. They were met by a grinning Barty, staring down at the remains of their coffee table. Luna resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"How, er, nice of you to join us," Xenophilius greeted him, looking more than a little perplexed.

"The pleasure is all mine, Sir. Barty Crouch Jr," he introduced himself, holding out his arm for a customary handshake as Luna fixed the table.

Xenophilius took it respectfully before announcing the need to make tea, and leaving them alone.

"I didn't mean to arrive quite so unceremoniously," Barty told her. "I was waiting for you in the living room; I thought you were taking the Floo."

"I was," she droned.

"I'm sorry, okay? You were right, so I'm here. Now let's get through the evening," he replied, sounding more annoyed than repentant.

"Why? So you can go home again when we've stayed long enough?" she snapped back. She thought she'd calmed down until she saw him again.

Barty sighed. "I've made it clear how difficult this is for me, Luna. I'm doing the best I can, and I'm doing it for you. Because you were right: I'm a selfish bastard. You deserve better than that. Let me try and be better. For you," he told her.

Luna didn't know whether to roll her eyes and laugh or smile and cry. She wanted to do both. He was an idiot, of course, and he didn't have a clue. But he was her idiot. She'd chosen him, and she didn't want to change her mind. Not yet, at any rate.

* * *

Dinner was tense. It felt to Luna as though conversation had always come easily between her and her father until today.

"So, Barty, what are your plans for the future?" Xenophilius asked, attempting to make small talk.

"Well, I'm working on a change of career," Barty replied. Luna could hear the dark grin in his voice even if he attempted to keep it off his face.

"What are you thinking?"

"Well I've been told I'm a good actor, so maybe there's hope for me as a musician. Or perhaps I'd make a good rockstar."

Luna knew what he was doing immediately. It was Barty's special brand of irony. There weren't a lot of options for a man as ostracized as he was, and this was his way of drawing attention to that - through false bravado and confidence.

"You're not from New York City, you're from Rotherham," Xenophilius noted derisively, Barty's point lost entirely on him.

"Parkgate, actually," Barty continued. "Rawmarsh. But that's hardly the point."

Xenophilius wasn't entirely sure what the point was, but let it slide. "Do you have any realistic careers in mind?" he asked.

"Not yet. My doctors say I shouldn't be focusing on that just yet," Barty admitted.

"Your doctors…" Xenophilius muttered. A reminder of the mental condition of his daughter's chosen partner was not what he needed.

Luna sat and ate in silence, watching the two of them closely for signs that things weren't going well. She noticed how Barty tensed a little at this but said nothing. He was trying, at least, she'd give him that.

"How are you getting along with your doctors?" Xenophilius asked. Of course, what he was really wondering was whether or not Barty was classed as 'sane' yet.

"I'm making progress," Barty replied, not meeting the older man's eye. Xenophilius didn't reply.

* * *

When Barty and Luna went home, they didn't talk of the evening. They'd both been there; they both knew how it went; they didn't need to relive it. Of course, it could have gone a lot worse, and with hard work and perseverance things might work out there, but it was far from promising. Xenophilius's pointed questions had continued for the whole three hours until Barty's patience began to show signs of wear. Luna decided a swift exit was best.

Instead of talking, they went to bed early. They didn't feel like sleeping, but they were more than content to rest in the comfort of each other's arms.


	5. Game

Written for Flying Lessons, Assignment 5, for the prompts: Mermaid and "You're just using my heart because yours won't start." I also used some of the other prompts as inspiration.

The lesson was Quidditch, around the themes of Game-playing & manipulation.

Words: 1049.

* * *

 **Game**

Luna didn't see her father for a while after that. But that was okay, she understood. She'd been faced with a choice between the two men, and though she hadn't known it at the time, she'd chosen the new over the old, the future over her past.

At least she wasn't alone.

They settled into a comfortable, insular life. It was like they didn't exist outside of the four walls of Luna's house. It was like it was all a bit of a dream, forced to stop abruptly when one of them had to leave the house and step into the real world. There was no place in the real world for Barty and Luna, so they carved out their own fantasy.

"I'm thinking of painting a mermaid on the bathroom wall," Luna mused aloud.

"Why a mermaid? Why not a siren?" Barty responded, a playful glimmer in his eye.

"Because sirens are dangerous, the opposite of relaxing, and a bathroom should be calm and tranquil. Mermaids have the beauty without the danger," Luna reasoned.

"But the world's full of danger. If you can't relax in the face of danger, it's a wonder you ever get any sleep," Barry shrugged, as if danger should keep the whole world grounded.

"Are you describing yourself as the face if danger?" Luna asked, half telling a joke as she considered him.

He looked up, catching her eye with a tense expression, holding her stare for a little too long. "Maybe."

Luna didn't want to admit that it unnerved her. She rolled her eyes, and tried to shake the shivers that crept up the back of her neck.

Conversations like that soon slipped into routine. She'd be talking about something inane, maybe something that was happening at work, and he'd twist it into danger and violence, sadism and fear. It started with the mermaid, but soon it was her new colleague who paid for her lunch. Apparently (and she wasn't sure if she believed him any more), he'd done that once with a victim - got her to trust him and like him so that she would tell him what he, and Lord Voldemort, needed to know, and then he disposed of her.

The new colleague made her wary after that, and she didn't let him pay for her lunch again.

She found herself second guessing everything. Kindness in others suddenly had ulterior motives; the journey to the office was now wrought with unknown terrors. Sometimes, it felt like the only person she could trust was Barty, because he'd been there himself and he knew how these people worked - he could save her. She should tell him everything in case she'd missed a threat.

But Luna was smarter than that. Barty hadn't counted on that.

When she was talking about her friends, and missing them, that was the final straw for Luna.

"If they aren't with you, they're against you," he said, his eyes intense as he observed her. This time, it didn't look like concern to Luna. It looked like he was analysing her reaction.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked. His coldness seemed to be rubbing off on her. For a moment, she thought she saw surprise pass over his features.

"You know what it means. People either stand with you or against you. They either plot with you or against you. If they aren't happy for you right now, they're trying to destroy your happiness," he explained.

Luna laughed. He might know the minds of dark wizards, but he didn't know her friends. He didn't know Ginny, or Neville. He didn't know Hermione or Harry. He knew the dark side of human nature - not the best of it.

"What are you trying to do? Are you trying to fill me with so much fear I won't leave the house? Are you trying to alienate me?" she asked, her voice filling with strength she did not feel.

"Don't be ridiculous," he told her, like he was scolding a small child. Luna was not a child - not anymore.

"You're playing with me. Manipulating me. Merlin, I've been stupid. You're just using my heart because yours won't start. The worst part is that I fell for it," she spat, rising to stand. He copied her actions, standing opposite her. The kitchen table between them suddenly felt to Luna as wide and dividing as the Korean border.

"You're usually quite intuitive, Luna. Stop seeing things that aren't there," he told her with pity in his eyes. False pity. An act.

"No. I thought you were getting better, but you're not, are you? You're the same man you've always been. You enjoy it, don't you? You're pathetic," Luna shouted back. It was out of character for her, she knew. But her empathy had run out. Her concern for him was at the back of her mind as anger - both at him and herself - took over.

He tried to keep up his act, stretching the rubber band of his façade as thin as it would go. But it snapped back, crumbled under the pressure. All of a sudden, he was not a dangerous man - he was a boy, close to tears, guilty.

"I'm trying, Luna," he admitted, quietly.

"No, you're not." She considered him for a few moments and quelled the part of her brain that felt sorry for him."

"I never meant to manipulate you. I didn't realise… I love you," he said, as if it was the final card to lay on the table, the final argument in an essay.

"Love comes when the manipulation stops. And… I don't know where it does stop with you." She paused for a moment before making her decision. "I can't stay with you. I can't stay with a man who would use my trust like that. I have… no reason left to stay," she admitted, even as tears formed in her eyes.

"No reason to stay is a good reason to go," Barty admitted defeat.

As she turned and walked away, she told herself over and over not to look back.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked. She looked back at him.

"I'll go stay at a friend's," she told him, not knowing which friend that would be, not knowing which friends she had left.


	6. Break

**Written for:** Flying Lessons - Assignment 6

 **A/N:** Because there are literally two female Death Eaters, this chapter will introduce an OC, Adhara Avery, sister of the Avery in the books. I wanted a pairing that mirrored Barty and Luna for this prompt, but in an opposite sort of way, so Adhara and Dean won the spot. Enjoy!

 **Prompts:** "You still believe in me. Don't you?" and BOTH members of your pairing are having/have had an affair with BOTH members of the other couple. - **20 point bonus!**

 **Words:** 2178

* * *

 **Break**

Luna went to stay with Ginny, initially, which worked very well for her. Ginny was out a lot of the time - Quidditch training, spending time with Harry and her family - Luna liked being alone with her thoughts, especially at the moment. She didn't even know where she stood with Barty anymore. They hadn't said it explicitly, so she wasn't sure if they were even still together. It took a week before Ginny began to complain about Luna's brooding.

"It's just not you, Luna! Where's your spark gone? You need to cheer up," she commented, arms folded as she stared.

"I'm not sure I'm in the mood, Ginny," Luna replied, hoping it would suffice.

"Bollocks," Ginny replied. "We're going out tonight, I've decided. And you will have fun!" Ginny's tone of voice made it seem more like a warning than a promise.

As much as Luna didn't want to go, she couldn't help but smile. Ginny was trying; Luna just wasn't sure her methods would work.

Ginny insisted on styling Luna's hair and makeup, and Luna was feeling a little happy with herself and the way she looked. She'd chosen a red dress covered in ladybird patterns and matching red earrings. Ginny headed out in a purple number that contrasted with her hair in the best sort of way.

They started in the trendy Wizarding bar on Knocturn Alley, the Lobalug's Lair, which was apparently the best place to go for a drink, according to Ginny.

Luna let Ginny buy the drinks, knowing the names of the cocktails printed above the bar meant nothing to her. She was handed a purple-blue concoction complete with stars glimmering in the darkness, and was glad that it was sweet.

The bar was quite full, which surprised Luna. It wasn't 9o'clock yet, and she'd been led to believe the night didn't truly start until midnight. As Ginny pulled her to the dancefloor, Luna decided it didn't matter. She would do her best to enjoy herself, and forget about Barty.

* * *

After a few days wandering around the house alone, Barty was certain he actually was going insane. The day and the night, minutes and hours - they all blended into one with no sense of direction. He knew it was a bad idea, but he couldn't sit sulking around alone any longer. He pulled on a black coat, hood up, and headed out under cover of darkness.

He risked being spotted; he risked the looks, the comments and the violence - but even that was better than the endless, bottomless nothingness he'd grown used to.

He wasn't going to do anything, just sit alone in a quiet bar for a few quick drinks and then back home. He'd people watch, and he definitely wouldn't think about Luna. He was sick of thinking about Luna. She'd occupied each and everyone of his waking thoughts - even the ones he didn't realise were about her. She always cropped up. He thought she'd broken up with him, but at the same time, he was still living at her house. So he stayed, and waited for her to come home.

Barty never did have much patience.

He ordered himself a firewhiskey and sat in the corner of the dingy room, staring around at the pitiful crowd he'd call his companions tonight. There weren't many people there, and the ones that were didn't seem to want to be seen, which suited Barty just fine. They were mainly wizards, but one or two witches made up the numbers. Most of them were older than him, and for a moment, for just a moment, he entertained the idea he'd end up just like them.

No. He wouldn't let that happen. He had to do something with the rest of his life - something. Just to keep him occupied, and on the right track. Lost in his own thoughts as he was, and enjoying the taste of the drink, he didn't notice the woman walking up to him.

"You fell hard," she said, and Barty looked up into hazel eyes, set in a halo of blonde hair.

"Do I know you?"

* * *

"Well, well. If it isn't Loony!" a boisterous voice called out from behind her, and she turned around, not sure yet if she should be hexing someone or laughing. Her eyes landed on a man, the one who'd spoken, and he was grinning at her kindly. He looked familiar somehow.

"It's Dean. I was in Harry's year," he said, seeing the lack of recognition on her face. Luna smiled. Of course it was. Now she knew, she saw he'd hardly changed.

"Nice to see you again, Dean," she said. "How are you?"

She glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, looking for Ginny. She had no idea where the girl had got to, but she could hazard a guess that Dean was not someone she wanted to bump into anytime soon.

"Not to bad, you?" he replied, as was customary in England. Luna always had found it odd that when people asked how you were, they didn't actually want to know.

"I'm good, thanks for asking," she replied with a smile that she hoped looked genuine.

"I never thought I'd see the day I'd bump into you in here," he commented, looking both surprised and impressed.

"Ginny brought me. She said I needed cheering up," Luna explained, thinking with hindsight that maybe she shouldn't have mentioned Ginny, what with their history.

"Ah," Dean nodded. "And did you?"

"I'm not sure. Sometimes we need to be sad about things for a while. But maybe I'd been sad for long enough."

"Well, did it work?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet."

Dean laughed. "I never did understand you. Can I get you a drink?"

Luna thought about that for a moment. In some circles, offering to buy someone a drink meant they then owed you something in return. She was also aware that she'd already drunk quite a bit. But then, she reasoned, she was supposed to be having fun.

"Sure," she replied with a smile, and followed Dean to the bar.

* * *

Within a few seconds, Barty had established that he did know the witch, and within a few minutes, they established they had a lot more in common than they'd ever realised. They had both been servants of Lord Voldemort, though Adhara Avery had never been Marked - she'd stayed out of the inner circle and she was grateful. If the Dark Lord doesn't see you as important, your life is in less danger.

But she'd never really agreed with the ideals, and she'd set out to build a new life after His downfall. She'd got a new job, at the Daily Prophet no less, and she'd even found herself a partner in the much younger Dean Thomas, a classmate of Harry Potter himself. But they'd had a fight, a few days ago, and Adhara didn't think they'd make it through this one.

"I know that feeling," Barty replied, darkly.

" _You_ have a girlfriend?" Adhara asked with incredulous laughter.

Barty raised an eyebrow and she straightened her face. "Had. I don't know if I still do or not," he explained.

"Who?"

Barty smiled wryly. He knew she wouldn't believe this one. "Luna Lovegood."

She laughed this time, really, but she took him at his word. "I never saw that coming. Wow. I'm impressed."

"So, what are you doing out?" Barty asked, changing the subject away from him. He was much better at talking about other people - he always had been.

"Well, I was heading to the Lair looking for a rebound, but _he's_ there. So I thought I'd come hang out with the old geezers in here instead," she grinned.

"A rebound, eh?" Barty asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Yeah," she smiled back, biting her lip. "You like the sound of that?"

Barty had to think about that one.

* * *

"So, I heard you were hanging around with that Barty guy. Is he not with you?" Dean asked, practicing an air of casual indifference. He didn't pull it off, but Luna didn't miss a beat before she responded adamantly, "No, he's not with me."

Dean laughed a little. "Like that, is it?"

Luna had to sigh. "Yeah, I guess it is."

"This is why Ginny wanted to cheer you up," Dean grinned, and Luna smiled back a little.

"I wish I knew where she'd gone," Luna replied wistfully.

"She'll be fine," Dean said with a flippant flick of his wrist.

Luna smiled politely. "Is your love life doing better than mine?" she asked.

Dean snorted. "Let's see, I'm in a bar alone on a Saturday night. What do you think?" he smiled, but something about it seemed pained.

"Let's forget about them and enjoy tonight," Luna suggested, raising her glass. He brought his to hers in cheers, before looking at her oddly.

"This might be a little forward of me, but do you want to go somewhere more… private? My place, perhaps?"

Luna had to think about that one.

* * *

Barty woke with a banging headache and a deep sense of regret. Whether or not he and Luna had broken up, this was not the way to win her back, and Barty had all of a sudden realised, as he came to life that morning, that he did want her back.

But first, he needed a shower and some breakfast, and he needed Adhara gone.

She didn't take long to wake either, and to Barty's relief, she didn't seem to want to stick around.

* * *

Luna woke in Dean's bed to a rapping on the window. Ginny's owl, probably making sure she was still alive. She probably should have found Ginny to let her know she was leaving. She supposed that was the last of her worries right now, though. She rose and opened the window, quickly reading the note and jotting down a response. As the bird flew off, she turned back to Dean with a sigh. Now she had to leave. She supposed the nice thing to do would be to wake him up, but she didn't feel like conversation. Instead, she quietly found her clothes and slipped out to the bathroom to get dressed.

She tried not to get emotional - the last thing she needed was to break down crying. She needed to focus and get out, and then decide what she was going to do about Barty.

She didn't know how she was going to do it; she didn't know if he even still wanted her. She half-expected to go home and find no trace of him there anymore. But if last night had taught her anything, it was that she wanted him back.

More than anything, she wanted her Barty, the man she'd fallen in love with, back by her side. Not the man he'd become, not the semblance of his old self he was desperately clinging to, for the sake of some familiarity in the face of the uncertainty around him. The man for whom she was familiarity - who didn't need anything else. As she pulled on her shoes, she opened the bathroom door with determination. She was going home.

* * *

She knocked on the door, and once again felt her sense of normality distort. She'd knocked on her own front doors too many times recently. She didn't want to do it again.

It didn't take him long to respond. The door opened and they just stood, staring at each other, in shock, waiting for the other to speak first so they could work out what they were thinking.

It took a while, but Luna plucked up the courage first. "Hello," she said, as emotionless as she could make it but it was still loaded with feeling.

Barty opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. Instead he just held the door open, inviting her inside. She passed him slowly, and turned to look at him from the middle of the living room.

He approached her, slowly, uncertainty shrouding his every move.

"You still believe in me. Don't you?" he asked, and she nodded, reaching out for him.

He took her into his arms willingly, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go again.

"I need to tell you something," she admitted, tears in her eyes as she broke the magic of the moment.

"So do I," he admitted, looking at the floor.

"I slept with someone else," Luna said, knowing there was no easy way to say it.

He looked at her in shock before swallowing. "So did I."

There was silence as they both took in the words of the other. They tried to understand it, make sense of their situation - but things never did make much sense to Barty and Luna.

"I guess I forgive you," Luna said, before kissing him. She'd done the same, at the end of the day. She wasn't a hypocrite.

"I forgive you, too. Even if we weren't officially broken up," he teased.

"Weren't we?" she asked.

"I hope not."

Luna only smiled, hoping this meant they were back on track for good.


	7. Beginnings

Written for Flying Lessons, assignment #7: Avoiding obstacles

Prompts:  
"I remember vintage green wallpaper, in your criminal arms, I couldn't feel safer."  
(location) Diagon Alley

Words: 1350

* * *

 **Beginnings**

"They're really letting me go?" Barty asked, staring at Luna with wide-eyed hope.

Luna couldn't help but smile. "Yes. And so long as you follow the Healer's orders, and remember to take your medicine, you'll never come back."

He joined her in her smile, and then it faded as he looked at her. The look in his eyes was so sincere, so heartfelt and meaningful, Luna almost wanted to back away. He was looking at her as if she'd done this, as if she'd set him free. She knew it was him.

"Thank you," he said, and Luna held back her thoughts. He'd saved himself, she knew. She believed in him, in his strength, in his goodness. But she couldn't make him believe. In fact, he may not be ready for that truth. She had to let him believe in her, for now, until his recovery was more advanced. She didn't know how long that would take, but if he believed in her, and she believed in him - he had a chance to be truly free, one day.

"Don't mention it," she told him. "Shall we?" She gestured to the door, to the one that had been locked to him for such a long time.

He nodded, not trusting his voice in his nervousness.

"Where to first?" she asked him. This was his freedom and he deserved the choice.

"Diagon Alley," he said, without a moment's hesitation.

She stepped back, allowing him to go first, to make these steps alone.

* * *

Shop windows shone in bright colours and large signs as a sea of people bustled about. It was August, meaning the streets were filled with laughter and hope as a new school year loomed on the horizon. School didn't mean death and destruction anymore - it meant the hope and promise it had always tried to stand for.

Barty just stood and stared for a while, and she let him, watching him all the time. His face as he took it all in reminded her of why she began volunteering in the first place: everyone deserved a happy ending.

"It's not changed one bit," he commented, confused by the thought and enthralled by it at the same time.

"Do things in this world ever truly change?" she asked him.

"Yes. I did," he replied with a small smile, before striding forth into the crowds in front of him. It had been such a long time, no one seemed to recognise him - to even bat an eyelid. Of course, they all still thought he was dead.

"Would you care for some ice cream, Miss Lovegood?" he asked her, turning on the Pureblood son of a Minister persona he had been brought up to embody, but the cheeky glint in his eye spoke of ulterior motives for his act that Luna couldn't help but grin at. Even if his chivalry was only in jest, she still liked it.

The ice cream parlour hadn't changed, either. The same vintage wallpaper, ivy leaves interwoven on vines, shone down a deep, natural green. The children sat sharing weird and wonderful flavours while parents smiled and shook their heads. Barty and Luna chose a booth by the window, away from the centre of the room, but a perfect place for Barty to watch and see the world he used to know as it was now. As if nothing bad had ever happened.

"Luna," Barty began, halfway through their ice creams, licking his spoon clean of peppermint cream. "I feel as though I know you quite well now, and you know me. But only in the context of that place. Only as the people we were within those four walls. I'd like to get to know you outside of them, if that's alright with you. I'd like to get to know the real you, in the real world, if you would let me."

Luna's smile faltered. "Barty… you're a wonderful man," she began, but she was cut off.

"But."

"Let me finish, please." Barty sighed, and leant back in his chair, his mouth closed. "I did get to know you. Very well. You're doing so much better than I ever let myself hope you could. But you know what the Healer said. You need to be focusing on your recovery. If you let your energy focus anywhere else, even in me, you could lose sight of that and go back to how you were. Barty, I would very much enjoy getting to know you better. I would actually like to be your friend. But you should focus on you first, not me," she told him, regretting every word but knowing it was the right thing to do.

"I know. I'm sorry," Barty said, with a sigh. "But maybe someday?" he asked.

"Definitely some day."

* * *

"I thought we agreed you would stay away from me," Luna sighed as she sensed his presence behind her, in the book shop. He leaned against the shelf beside her, almost forcing her to look.

"We did. I'm not staying long. I just saw you through the window and thought you should know. The Healers say I'm still getting better. I feel better. I'm happier," he told her, smiling, staring right into her eyes.

She smiled. "That's wonderful, Barty. I'm really glad for you."

"I have you to thank, you know."

Luna rolled her eyes.

"No, I mean it. You had faith in me when no one else did. You always knew just what to say, what to do, to keep me from losing myself again. You gave me my freedom when no one else could. I'll always be grateful for that," he told her.

Her smile turned sad as she considered him. "No. All I did was remind you that you were worth something. That you could have faith in yourself - that that was okay. You owe me nothing. You brought your own happiness back."

"If that's true, I still couldn't have done it without you," he smiled. "One day, Luna, when you let me… One day I'll make it up to you. You'll see me for the man I was always supposed to be."

"Barty, I already do," she reminded him, before turning to leave.

* * *

When she arrived home from work a week later, she couldn't say she was surprised to find him on her doorstep. He was stood, stoic, waiting.

"I know I'm supposed to be staying away," he said, holding his hands up in defence.

"Then why are you here?" she asked, stopping to face him on her front lawn.

"Because I'm ready. The Healers even said it was time for me to start moving on, beginning my new life. And... " he began, but he paused. "And because I'm not happy."

Confusion pulled Luna's brows together as she looked at him, wondering what he was alluding to.

"I am content, sure. But I haven't yet found my happiness. And I know why," he said as he stepped closer to her. "Because my happiness… it's with you."

Luna suppressed a giggle at his bold words. After everything he'd done, who would have guessed that romance still lived in his broken heart?

"I have a feeling you'll never stop bothering me until I say yes," she replied.

He stepped forward, confident for the first time in years, and wrapped his arms around her waist, waiting for her true answer. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, before looking at him.

"I know you, Barty. The real you. I remember. I remember what you did to Harry. I remember your face on the cover of that _Daily Prophet_ article. I remember you sitting in a corner, rocking, untrusting of strangers. I remember your eyes, wide, as they told you you were a free man. I remember a hip flask. A prisoner number. Hospital robes. I remember vintage green wallpaper. In your criminal arms, I couldn't feel safer."

He smiled at her, desperate to kiss her but not sure if now was the right time. "So…?" he asked.

"Come inside, Barty," she told him, and stepped aside to unlock her front door.


	8. History

Written for Flying Lessons, Assignment 8: Flying With Different Brooms - Include a third party to your relationship that affects the relationship in a negative way. For this prompt, I chose Regulus Black. I also used the prompt 'cerulean'.

Words: 2372

* * *

 **History**

The lock on the front door gave with a quiet click that could not be heard in the bedroom. Barty's arm was wrapped loosely around Luna's waist as they faced away from the door, towards the light of the window.

Downstairs, the front door was pushed open into the darkness. For a moment, the sound of cars on the nearby motorway rushed in to fill the empty space as a figure in a long leather coat slipped through the crack. The door was closed behind him as softly as it was opened.

Heavy boots paced into the hallway before stopping. A gloved hand reached out to the small table on the right, picking up a photograph of the couple. She, with long blonde hair, smiling as she wrapped an arm around his neck. He, with quietly brooding eyes, fixing her with a smouldering look. A picture of young love. No sign of bad blood.

The picture was placed back down and the figure advanced. Reaching the stairs, a wand was drawn, but it was held low. At the landing, the figure stopped. Grey eyes took in the doors in front of him, calculating, before selecting their target.

The handle was turned gently, silently. The figure swayed over to the bed, calm, breath steady. It leaned over the right side of the bed, taking in the innocent face of the girl, brushing a lock of hair back from where it had fallen in front of her eyes. Black boots carried the shadow around to the other side of the bed, where he leant over the man. A wand was raised, pressed softly into the man's cheek, below the defining bone. Then, the figure backed away. He sat himself down on the chaise longue, reclining with his left arm over the backrest. A smile glanced over his features for just a moment.

Silently, he cast a locking charm on the door, before turning to do the same with the window. They would not escape. He pulled the chain dangling from the floor light beside him, illuminating himself in the darkness. His dark hair shone white where the light hit.

Raising his wand one more time, he aimed it at the bed, which rose gently into the air. The couple lay sleeping, unknowing. He let the bed fall with a crash, jolting the couple awake with sharp gasps.

Barty rose first, rising in his boxers, his wand in hand - perhaps he slept with his fingers clutched around it? - and his eyes dark as they settled on the man. He was poised to attack.

Luna was more defensive and wary. She didn't know their world. She sat up, pulling the quilt around herself as her legs raised, curling her in on herself. Her wand was beside her and she glanced at it, before looking at the figure.

"Hello," the man said with a sadistic grin.

"Regulus," Barty breathed, his tense expression growing weak with shock.

"Barty," he replied, cooly. "Nice to see you again."

"You're… you're dead…" the girl said, unable to wrap her head around the thought in her grogginess as she eyed him with suspicion.

"Am I? Oh, goodness. I suppose no one told me that," he replied, feigning ignorance and surprise before fixing her with a smile.

"Drop the crap, Reg," Barty spat, his shock giving way to anger.

"Apologies, Barty. I thought you'd be more welcoming to an old friend." His words were pronounced with precision, the voice of a man trained to speak with dignity and honour, as his hand gestured openly.

Luna looked between the two men, her breathing hitched, not knowing if she should be attacking, running, or sitting quietly still. Her indecision led her down the latter path, but she was alert, ready to jump at a moment's notice.

"How are you here? How are you alive?" Barty asked, claiming dominance of the situation by asking for explanations.

"I've always been alive, Barty," Regulus calmly explained. "It's an ironic thing, really. You see, if anyone believed I wasn't dead, then I would be. If there's anything I value, Barty, it's my life."

"But you turned on him! You went rogue! You deserve to be dead!" Barty shouted, unable to let his old allegiances go when faced with them so clearly.

"I turned on him, yes. I got out. You, on the other hand, went completely mad, if the stories are to be believed. Excuse me for sparing myself that fate," Regulus said with a cool smile.

Luna's eyebrows narrowed as if she didn't quite believe that he'd managed it.

"Apologies. I didn't realise that showing up in the dead of night and waking us up by scaring us shitless was a friendly greeting nowadays," Barty replied, sarcasm his crutch.

"Well, when you put it like that," Regulus replied with a wicked grin.

Barty sighed, his wand still trained on his old ally.

"What are you doing here?" Luna asked, her courage finding her. Both men turned their eyes on her, and Luna suddenly felt very vulnerable. She was suddenly acutely aware of what both these men were capable of. What they'd done.

"Well, m'lady," Regulus began, his eyes taking in her form through the bedsheets, analysing her as if she was less than human. "I thought I'd pop in on an old friend. That's all. I heard he had a comfortable life set up, on the grapevine, and I wanted to come see it for myself." He gestured around the room, looking around, taking it in with appreciative nods. "Nice place," he added as some kind of afterthought.

"You need to leave," Barty responded, not missing a beat.

"No, I don't," Regulus replied, his voice high and casual as he shrugged a shoulder as if a fact was nothing more than a fact. "Do you have a guest room? I'd hate to impose in here."

"Not for you."

Regulus shrugged again, wiping his eyes with a hand. "Suit yourself."

Barty turned to Luna, never dropping his wand. "Luna, can we go to the bathroom? We need to talk," he asked, and she nodded, making to get out of bed.

Regulus laughed, but he was ignored. Luna walked quickly to the door while Barty backed away from Regulus slowly. He heard her grasp the handle behind him before she stopped.

"He's locked it."

Barty closed his eyes in irritation as Regulus grinned and gestured his hands around the room. Despite all of his grand movements, his wand never left his right hand, his eyes were always alert, dancing. He was as ready as Barty was.

"Looks like you'll have to talk in here, then. Cosy, isn't it?" he asked.

"Give me your wand," Barty demanded.

"Give me yours."

"Why don't you both put your wands away?" Luna suggested.

They stared at each other for a while, steel eyes boring into oak, before they lowered their wands in tandem. Barty and Luna climbed on top of the bed, close together, as far away from Regulus as they could be. It was the closest thing to privacy they were going to get.

"What is it?" Luna asked in a whisper, searching her lover's eyes for truth.

"I don't know why he's here. I don't know what he wants. I didn't even know he was still alive," Barty began, shaking his head. As quiet as he was being, it was clear Regulus could still hear them. "But there's more to our past than being old friends, Luna. We were… partners. In a relationship. I loved him."

The revelation knocked Luna sideways. She instinctively drew back. She'd known, of course, that it was likely he'd had partners before her. She'd known it was possible. She just hadn't considered it. Them. Knowing it was Regulus, the man with a sadistic grin holding them prisoner in their own bedroom, was more than she could handle.

Barty searched her eyes for an answer, but she had none to give. She didn't know what to say. Instead, she turned to Regulus's twisted expression and set her own face hard.

"Can I have some privacy, please?" she asked. "To get dressed. Both of you. We can talk in the kitchen."

* * *

As Luna made her way downstairs, fully clothed in a pair of jeans and a loose fitting jumper, she heard an owl outside hoot, reminding her that it was still the middle of the night, probably close to morning. Barty and Regulus sat facing each other, wands still drawn. She didn't know why, if they weren't going to use them. Regulus was head-to-toe black under the harsh kitchen light. Barty sat in his bathrobe. She supposed his modesty didn't matter quite so much when both of them had probably seen him naked.

Instead of sitting down, she moved to the kettle, taking it to the tap to fill it with water before placing it back on its bay and switching it on. She took three cups from the cupboard and placed them on the counter.

"How do you take your coffee?" she asked Regulus, as if it was a Sunday afternoon and he was a regular, welcome house guest.

"Same way as Barty," he replied with a knowing smile. She knew what he was saying. That he knew things she didn't, that he'd been a part of this private world. That this life they had used to be his. She didn't let her emotions show. She turned back to the cups and spooned out three measures of coffee and three measures of sugar. Three identical coffees.

Placing the steaming mugs down, she took a chair in the middle of the table. She knew she should have sat next to Barty, but Regulus's presence, this new knowledge, meant to much to her to shake it off. The added bonus was that it was a perfect place to mediate from.

"Have you told her nothing?" Regulus asked, his eyes fixed on Barty. His act was all but gone now, and Luna didn't know if she should be grateful that she was now faced with just the man.

"About what, exactly?" Barty replied, scowling. Luna knew that look. It was a dangerous look, and at this time of night, his medication was wearing off. "I told her enough. I told her about me."

"But not about us." Regulus's eyes suddenly turned on Luna. "I was a part of his life for three years. We lived together. He says he's told you about him, but I'm a part of him. I always will be. I'm written under his skin like a tattoo he'll never shake." The allusion to the Dark Mark on their forearms was not lost on Luna. "If he's not mentioned me, he hasn't told you about him. If he's not mentioned me, what else is he hiding?"

"He's told me enough," Luna replied, but her voice was weak. She hated that her voice was weak. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to stand up and defend herself, defend Barty, defend them. But she couldn't. She couldn't let Regulus shake her, but he had. She shouldn't let him come between them, but he was between them. His absence had been, his absence from Barty's words, from his memories. Now, his presence was.

"Why are you here?" Barty asked, his voice close to anger, repeating the same question over and over again as if this time, it would be different.

Regulus laughed. Of course he laughed.

"I'll find you again under cerulean skies, when the rain's washed away my bittersweet lies, and the wind's tugged my mistakes free from their ties, because the sun should always shine on you," Regulus said, as if he was reciting lines from some old, well-remembered poem.

The pallor that took over Barty's face said she was right. If it had been funny, Luna would have thought it some old in-joke. It wasn't a joke. It was real. It was love, or, what was left of love after decades of separation, after bitterness, and hate, and pain, had faded away to some distant dull ache.

"I found my cerulean skies. With someone else," Barty eventually found the courage to respond.

Regulus smiled, confidence raising his shoulders a little. "We'll see about that."

Luna couldn't help but realise how much of a mess her relationship with Barty really was. Wrapped up in their little bubble, it was easy to ignore. The reality was, things were shit. With Regulus here, she was suddenly faced with every negative aspect of their relationship, all at once. His recovery, still not complete, still threatened to shake the very foundations of their love. When he slipped, he wasn't just mean. He was cruel, vindictive, and the closer Luna got to him, the more it hurt. The more it shattered her very idea of herself. Her father was another stumbling block. He had no love for Barty, and that hadn't gone away. It never would. Their break, their ability they were both acutely aware of that they could be with other people, made them wonder if love was possible, and perhaps healthier, with other people. It had worried them as much as it had strengthened them. And now, Regulus. Living proof that Barty had lied, hidden, tried to portray himself in a light that wasn't necessarily true. And he was sat there at their kitchen table.

Luna looked to Barty, fear and worry etched into her face.

"Luna?" Barty asked, unsure, nervous.

"I need to sleep," she announced, standing from the table and looking away from both of them as she headed for the stairs. Really, she needed time to think.

* * *

 _The night presses in from every side;_  
 _The future's a boat on a receding tide._  
 _You see me and smile with fear in your eyes;_  
 _I've the power to save and consume you._

 _This beach will see our final goodbyes,_  
 _The tide carries away all the times that we've tried._  
 _There's a war inside that I have to fight_  
 _And I know that you feel it too._

 _I'll find you again under cerulean skies,_  
 _When the rain's washed away all my bittersweet lies,_  
 _And the wind's tugged my mistakes free from their ties,_  
 _Because the sun should always shine on you._

* * *

AN: I tried to find an actual poem with the word 'cerulean' in it, but I didn't have much luck, so I wrote one instead. I was going to write a paired drabble about Barty and Regulus reading this poem in the depths of their despair and finding solace in it's reflection of their situation. But anyway. If you enjoyed this, and are enjoying the story - or, if you didn't - please let me know in the box below!


	9. Motives

Prompts used: A muggle computer and illness/injury: black eye.

Words: 1101

* * *

 **Motives**

At first, Luna thought that Regulus's arrival was the worst thing that had happened to the pair so far. It didn't take her long before she just added it to the list, somewhere between her father, Barty's illness and the whole thing with Adhara and Dean. It briefly crossed her mind to just invite them all around to dinner together and see if that solved anything.

She didn't realise she might have misjudged anything until Barty's behaviour began to change.

The couple were cleaning up after dinner one night while Regulus stepped outside for a smoke. Barty was washing the dishes and Luna was wiping down the table. She walked over to stand behind him as she rinsed off her cloth and he leant around to kiss her forehead.

Smiling at him, Luna suggested they slip off together early for bed.

Barty frowned a little through his smile. "Reg won't like it," he replied, a strange edge to his voice.

"You aren't in a relationship with Regulus," Luna playfully reminded him.

"I'm not," Barty replied, his tone an odd mixture of confusion and confirmation, as if the fact had momentarily escaped his notice.

As soon as the confusion appeared, it left. He leant down with a smile to kiss her and Regulus wasn't mentioned again.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of it. It seemed parts of Barty were still in the throws of his illness, and those parts couldn't make sense of the situation they were currently in. The meeting of Barty's past with his present, the dead and the living, the dark and the light - it was all too much for him, and Luna grew more and more concerned for him.

Regulus didn't appear concerned. Luna wondered what was wrong with him as she watched him smile more and more often, his eyes dancing around the corners of every room, taking everything in.

She turned to the muggle computer for help, trying to understand Regulus's thought processes and motivations. She looked at psychopathy and sociopathy, and all sorts of personality disorders. She came to the conclusion that he was very good at hiding whatever it was that was wrong with him, because nothing quite seemed to fit with what she'd learned of him so far. There must have been more to him than met the eye. But, she concluded, there was nothing to be done.

She made sure Barty continued to take his medicine, and went to all his appointments, but he was deteriorating, and there wasn't much anyone could do yet but watch. Recovery was full of its ups and downs, they said, and they couldn't intervene every time things got a little worse again. They had to weather it out for a while.

She did all she could, but Regulus seemed determined to ensure it wasn't enough.

.o0o.

Waking up at three in the morning was never a good sign. The house seemed silent, in the sort of way the world only ever is in the middle of the night, when most things are asleep. As Luna began to come to, she heard the shouting.

They were disjointed voices, words indistinguishable by the muffle, but they were almost instantly recognisable.

Luna quickly pulled her robe from the back of her door and wrapped herself up before heading downstairs.

"You're getting into my head! I don't know what you're doing, or how you're doing it, but you need to stop! You need to leave!" Luna heard Barty's erratic tones through the door and rushed down the last few steps.

Regulus was smirking when she entered the room, an expression she's seen on him so often she was beginning to wonder if his face naturally rested like that.

"I wouldn't be in your head if you didn't let me in," he commented, glancing ever so briefly at Luna as if he was grateful for the audience. Luna froze in the doorway just for a few moments, taking in the situation, working out how best to respond.

"No. You manipulate things, Regulus. It's what you've always done. I learnt it from you! I don't know what you're doing, or why, but by Merlin, I can promise you, it won't work. It will never work."

Luna stepped forward to place a comforting hand on Barty's shoulder, trying to soothe him and calm him down. She didn't know if it was working; she didn't even know if he could feel her there, but she knew he needed something.

"How can you be so certain it isn't going to work if you don't know what I'm doing? How do you know it isn't already working?"

"I don't, but you're leaving. Right now. So it doesn't matter." Barty's voice was hard, venomous. Like nothing she'd heard before.

Regulus didn't seem to mind.

"If you say so. I've planted my seeds; it's no skin off my nose," Regulus replied, waving his arm with artistic flare. "The plant will grow whether I'm here to see it or not."

Regulus turned, as if heading for the door, leaving a last seed of doubt in their minds as a parting gift.

Barty took a hold of his shoulder. As Regulus turned back around to face him, Barty drew his fist up and hit him squarely on the jaw. Luna drew in a breath in shock. For all his talk of violence, this was the first time she'd seen it personally. She didn't know if she should be afraid of it. Despite the crack that had resounded through the room on impact, Regulus didn't waste any time. He retaliated in kind, bringing his own fist up to catch his old lover's eye, which began to bruise immediately.

As blood began to stain the carpet, Luna watched Regulus shake his fist out and turn towards the door, looking over his shoulder only for long enough to say, "See you again."

Luna turned back to Barty.

"Are you okay?" she asked. He only nodded.

She brought her hand up to his face, to his swollen eye socket, and ran her fingers over the darkening tissue.

"What did he mean? What seeds has he planted?" she asked him, hoping he'd been able to figure it out through his knowledge of Barty.

"I don't know. I don't know what he wanted. Nothing made sense. We'll have to wait and see."

Barty was right, Luna thought. It didn't make sense. But if there was anything certain, it was that Regulus's short stay would leave the couple with more than just a single black eye to show for it.

Time would once again have to tell.

* * *

A/N: I feel like this one isn't quite up to standard, so sorry about that. I do have a few loose ends to tie up in the remaining three chapters and I'm working on a kind of plan for that, so long as it matches the prompts I'm given. Rest assured, you won't be disappointed.


	10. Questions

Written for Flying Lessons at Hogwarts .Prompts were: one member of the pair tells a big, meaningful lie, and four poster bed.

Words: 1929

* * *

 **Questions**

 _A Hogwarts dormitory, decked out in silver and green, sighs softly through the gently snores of five boys. Candles burn softly, high on the walls, giving the room enough light to make out shapes and shadows, but nothing more._

 _The four poster beds look grand and imposing, impossibly large, as one of the boys rouses, opening his eyes. He sits up a little, looking around the room, his eyes settling on another boy. He lifts himself out of his bed, drawing in a sharp breath as his feet connect with the cold wooden floor, and makes his way over to the other boy's bed. He lets himself in gently, slipping beneath the covers and squeezing in tightly, before waking the other boy with a kiss._

 _"Good morning," he whispers as the other boy stirs, "Or, good night. I'm not sure." He smiles at his lover, who opens his eyes and smiles back._

 _"Why am I awake?"_

 _"Because I wanted you to know I love you. And because I got cold all on my own."_

 _"I love you too, Barty, but not so much in the middle of the night," the boy says with a breathy laugh._

 _"I'll try not to make a habit of it," he says, leaning in for another kiss._

The scene faded, replaced quickly by blackness, and Luna opened her eyes to remind herself of where she was. Her breath was quick as her pulse jumped in her neck. It was just a dream, she told herself, but she knew it was more than that. She knew Regulus had been right. He was working his way between her and Barty even now. Luna, in the darkness, under the crescent moon, admitted that it might only be a matter of time.

* * *

Barty sat at the breakfast table in silence. Luna tried to start conversation more than once, starting by asking his opinion on a Daily Prophet article that would usually rile him up and resorting to passing remarks on the weather. None of it worked.

So Luna, too, resolved to eat in silence, knowing that she would have to go to work anyway, and she'd been late often enough recently. Besides, they went to print in a week, so things were busy while they finished this issue and began work on the next all at once.

Barty finished before her, so stood and left the room in silence, heading upstairs. Luna rolled her eyes and finished her breakfast in no rush.

She made her way upstairs soon after, ready to finish sorting her things and adding the finishing touches to her outfit before leaving. Stepping into the bedroom, the first thing she noticed was the letter on her bedside table, where she'd left it last night. Her father had written to her, and she needed to summon the energy to write back. It made her a little sad that that was what had become of them, now. Writing to each other to keep them up to date on their lives. She blamed him, of course, but a part of her wondered if she was right to do so.

"What does your dad want?" Barty asked, and the sound startled Luna. She didn't think she'd hear anything from him today.

"Er, he's just asking a lot of questions. The usual. He's talking at Hogwarts on Friday. Something about meeting Harry during the worst of the war, and being on the side lines, and seeing it all unfold. Making sure people don't forget and all of that." Luna shrugged. It had all become so pointless to her over the years, through her desire to forget.

Barty, of course, said nothing.

Luna grabbed her handbag, shoving the letter from her father inside it, and made to leave, but Barty stopped her with a gentle hand.

"I'm going out today. I need to speak to someone. About the past. Someone who knows. Someone… someone who was there."

The hairs on the back of Luna's neck stood on end as she considered him. "Who?"

"Adhara," Barty admitted.

"The woman you slept with?" Luna asked.

Barty rolled his eyes even as he nodded his head.

Luna turned from him and headed towards the door. "Okay." The word was flat and emotionless – the opposite of how she felt.

* * *

"So, what's this all about?" Adhara asked, glancing around nervously as she clutched her coffee.

"I know this isn't… ideal. I'm sorry. I just had to talk to someone. Someone who isn't Luna. Someone who was there."

"You know, a girl reaches an age where vagueness becomes more or an annoying time-waster than a sexy mystery."

Barty smiled. "Reg came to visit Luna and me," he explained.

"Shit, he's alive?"

"Yeah, apparently. And I think he wants me back. He seems more dangerous now. Volatile. He stuck around for a while and perfected his penchant for cryptic statements and keeping you second guessing and on your toes. It didn't do much good for my mental health."

"Why do you _think_ he wants you back?" she asked, frowning as she sipped her drink.

"He told Luna about him and me. She didn't know. He just kept trying to come between the two of us, reminding me of what we had when we were kids." Barty sighed, looking down into his espresso with a furrowed brow.

"You two really loved each other back then, didn't you?" she asked.

Barty nodded.

"And now?"

"And now what?"

"Do you love him now?"

Barty was silent as he took the words in, considered them. He considered both sides, let him feel his way around them, searching for the truth he wasn't sure of. "Yes. What should I do?"

"You're asking the wrong person for advice on love. But it seems to me you have a choice. You make your choice and then you stick to your guns and you damn well fight for it." There was a pause. Barty looked up to meet her eye. "Who do you love more?"

Barty frowned a little. "Luna."

Adhara smiled ruefully. "You don't seem so sure. You need to be. If you aren't certain what you want, you'll lose them both."

Barty sighed. "Her father hates me. My ex hates her. My illness is constantly getting between us. It's an impossible battle."

Adhara gave a knowing smile. "It's the impossible battles that are worth fighting."

* * *

Luna sat behind her desk, looking at the piles of articles in front of her. The pile on the right she'd proofread, and they were ready for printing. Throughout the morning, the pile had steadily grown. The pile on the left was the pile waiting for her approval. Unfortunately, this pile had also grown.

She decided it was time for a short break, so she picked up the letter from her father and began to plan out her response. She knew he was only in the next room, his office. She knew she should just walk in and talk to him. She just couldn't bring herself to. It was too awkward now, with her own father.

He'd asked about her relationship with Barty, of course. Actually, when she looked at the letter, he'd asked the same question about the couple five different times, in different words. It was clear they all translated to the same thing, asking if they were still together. He talked about himself, and the company, too. He made a fine job of listing all the recent successes she already knew through working there, and she wondered if he'd written them simply to fill up space. Either way, she decided short and sweet was the best way to respond, especially given there wasn't all that much to respond to.

 _Dear father,_

 _Thank you for your kind letter. I hope this letter finds you well. Barty and I are still together and very happy for it. He really is getting much better now and his commitment to his new and better path remains steadfast, even when tested._

 _I agree it's wonderful news that_ The Quibbler _has now officially overtaken_ Witch Weekly _as the second most popular regular publication in the British Wizarding Community, second only to the_ Daily Prophet _, though I did hear this news alongside your other employees on Monday morning's full team meeting._

 _Congratulations on your invitation to speak at Hogwarts. I am confident the occasion will pass wonderfully._

 _Perhaps we ought to enjoy lunch together soon._

 _Lots of love,_

 _Luna_

She folded the letter carefully and placed it with her father's letter in her bag, ready to send later. She didn't want to send it now for the owl to fly from one window to the next, so she would wait a short while. The hard part, at least, was out of the way, which left Luna's mind free to focus.

Half of her concentration went on her job, proofreading and approving the articles. The other half, however, wandered, and soon found itself halting on the thought of Barty.

Her mind went over everything Regulus had told her, every little sentence, and she tried and tried to figure out which were truths, which were half-truths and which were lies, but she found herself unable to. One thing Regulus said could not be denied – Luna didn't know enough about this time. Barty's past. The Barty she knew had once existed but who seemed like an alien concept. He'd told her the facts, she realised. The actions. The quantifiable. She knew nothing of the feelings. Not until Regulus showed up.

Everything else Regulus said, however, folded over everything else, making themselves into one convoluted mess of warped statements, some of which were true, but Luna could not work out which.

* * *

Luna closed her front door behind her, dropped her keys and handbag on the table and marched into her house in search of Barty. She had some questions for him, and she was not messing around. He was sat in the rocking chair in the living room with a book, though the leather jacket adorning the back of the chair told her he'd been out today, like he said.

"Did you love Regulus?" she asked him, not giving him a moment to welcome her home.

"What?" he asked, confused as he closed the book and looked up.

"Did you love him?"

"Well, yes," he answered, uncomfortable under scrutiny.

"For how long?" Luna asked.

"Years. Why are you asking?"

"Was it a secret?"

"To most. Some knew."

"When did you stop loving him?" she asked, determination on her face.

"What? I don't know. When he died."

"When he died? What does that mean? He died and suddenly you stopped loving him?"

"No, of course not! I just mean that's when it started. It took years, of course, but that's when I started to stop loving him, when I thought he was dead. Because I knew that it hurt, but it had to be, because he didn't exist anymore. You can't love something that doesn't exist."

"It took years?" Luna asked, parroting his words once again. "So you did stop loving him?"

Barty looked away for the briefest of seconds. "Yes, of course I did. When I was in hospital."

"And you don't love him now?"

"I love you now," Barty replied with a frown.

"That's not a direct answer. Do you love Regulus Black now? Today?" she repeated, eyes big and wild.

Barty sighed, closing his eyes. "No. No, I don't love Regulus Black."

"Good," Luna replied, and turned away. Barty stared after her retreating form, pursing his lips and furrowing his brow, as if in sadness.

* * *

 **A/N: I'd love it if you left me a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter - the good and the bad! Thank you :)**


	11. Battle

Written for Flying Lessons at Hogwarts

Prompts: Family member or friend dies and weather condition: storm/thunder storm/electrical storm.

Words: 1771

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

 **Battle**

At six o'clock on Friday evening, Luna's second thought was about dinner. She hadn't even begun to think about dinner yet, and she couldn't even remember what was in the fridge. She looked over at where Barty was sitting and considered asking him what he wanted. She even played the words over in her mind, testing the shape of them in her mouth as he poured over the latest issue of The Quibbler, but her vocal chords refused to make a sound. The words caught in her throat like the sting of tears unshed. The silence between them fell so heavily it seemed impenetrable, choking.

He'd looked her dead in the eye and told her he didn't love Regulus Black, not anymore. Luna didn't know whether or not she believed him. The very fact that there was room for doubt over something so important to her made her question the very foundations of their relationship, and she hated it.

But that was only her second thought.

Her first thought was for her father. He'd be in the Great Hall right now, staring up at the night's sky on the ceiling, thunderous and alive, no doubt, as the sky was outside her own living room window. The distant rumbles and the steady patter of rain were comforting background noises from the safety of a living room.

Xeno would be sat at the Professors' table, looking out over the bright young faces, ready to give his speech the moment it was called for. He'd be smiling, chattering through his nerves.

Luna wished she was there. She wished she could look up at her father and be proud to hear him speak, to share his ideals once more. She wished she could be sat at the long table looking up at him in black and blue robes, from a time in her life when things were simple and made sense, before a boy died in a Triwizard maze.

"What are we having for dinner?" Barty's words cut through the quiet so suddenly they made Luna jump. She looked up to find him already looking at her, nothing but casual indifference on his features.

"Er... I'm not sure what's in. I'll go and look," Luna replied, already making to stand before she'd finished speaking, but Barty jumped to his feet before her, motioning for her to stay seated.

"I'll do it," he said, walking out.

Luna let out a sigh. She didn't try to explain that she wanted to sort dinner herself, because she wanted something to do that wasn't worrying. She didn't tell him that she needed to focus on something that wasn't the vicious cycle of her own thoughts. Instead, she rested her head back on the chair and closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds of the storm until they seemed louder than her own screaming mind.

She didn't even stir when she heard an owl tapping at the kitchen window. If it was for Barty, she didn't need to bother, but if it was for her, she'd no doubt be roused by the bird itself.

A few moments later, Luna heard the shuffle of footsteps as Barty made his way back into the living room.

"I just got the weirdest note," he commented, holding a slip of parchment out to Luna with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

Apprehension caught Luna's nerves as she reached forward to take it and read.

 _"Magic we didn't learn here will light these halls tonight. A."_

Hairs stood on end on Luna's neck.

"Someone's attacking Hogwarts," Luna explained, monotonous, already standing and heading for the stairs.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that," Barty responded, on her heel. "Who? Why?"

"I don't know, but the note couldn't be more clear."

"It could, actually."

"Who's it from?"

"Adhara," Barty told her, the conversation flashing back and forth in short responses as Luna reached the bedroom, heading straight for her bedside cabinet. She picked up her wand from it's surface and placed it in the wand pocket on her bright dress before opening up her drawer and rifling through.

"My dad's speaking there tonight. Whoever's attacking probably wants to get to him. Or me. Or the whole side of the war we fought on. I don't know. It doesn't make sense yet," Luna explained, pulling a small coin from the back of her drawer and pointing her wand at it, whispering a silent prayer before beginning the incantation.

"What are you doing?" Barty asked, confused.

"Calling for back-up."

"Why? You're not thinking of going in there, are you?"

"Of course I am. My dad needs me."

Barty stood still for a moment, his thoughts whirring in his surprise at Luna's adamant statement. When he did move, it was to turn away from Luna, and for a moment, her heart sank. She knew what was at risk if he came with her - he could very well be facing old friends and lovers. She'd still hoped. Barty reached his own bedside table and picked up his wand, turning to face Luna.

"Let's go then," he said.

Luna stared in surprise for a moment before smiling at him.

* * *

The storm was louder over Hogsmeade, more direct and urgent. A dramatic monologue for the despair. Walking into the Hog's Head, Luna's shock and confusion at the unexpected turn of events multiplied tenfold. Hermione and Ron were by the window, looking up at Hogwarts castle, close in conversation. Harry was sat with Ginny beside him, surrounded by other Aurors and Ministry employees. Luna smiled to see Draco among them, despite how uncomfortable he still looked in such company. Neville and Hannah were stood by the bar, too. The gathered crowd congregated together, and all were equals in the face of such sudden adversity. What they new so far, which was very little, was mainly dictated by Hermione, but soon they were all on the same page. They were to wait a little longer for more to gather, but they would be heading into the school to meet the attackers before they reached the Great Hall, where the young and old were currently being kept safe.

Many questions were, of course, still unanswered, but there would be time to ask them later, once the immediate danger passed. They still didn't know how many they would be facing, or, indeed, who they were.

* * *

The storm flashed through the windows of the second floor corridors, mixing its bright lights with the whirring curses. Luna was battling as well as any around her, but her mind was racing. The lives of the people she loved were at risk everywhere she looked. Her father, who she'd come to save, was still in peril. Barty, who'd willingly followed her into the fray, knowing who he might be facing, was fighting beside her. Her friends who'd come at her beck and call were fighting for their lives just as she was. Luna didn't like the feeling.

She turned to Barty, in the middle of the battle, just for a second, and took in the grin covering his features. He looked like he was in his element here, and the thought scared Luna.

A clatter sounded from behind the gathered soldiers, and ducking a purple stream of light from a cloaked and hooded figure, Luna whipped her head around. A door had been blasted from its hinges. Two figures, wands raised, headed towards the scene of destruction. It wasn't until they got close that Luna recognised the long flowing hair of the woman and the crooked grin of the man. Regulus and Adhara. Luna didn't take a second for her confusion. None of what was currently going on made any sense, but the urgency of the situation negated her desire to ask questions. They could piece things together after the battle was over. Still, Luna froze in fear. As Regulus and Adhara approached, she understood she didn't know which side they were joining. All of a sudden, their decision mattered above all else. It could change Barty's mind, but more importantly, it would seal the fates of Luna and her loved ones if they joined the attackers by skewing the odds too heavily against them.

Regulus caught her eye and threw her a grin; fear stood the hairs along her spine on end. He loosed a spell from the tip of his wand. Luna watched the progress of the flash of light as if it was playing on a movie reel in slow motion. It seemed to be heading straight for her. Instead, it passed less than an inch from her shoulder, connecting with a curse that had been heading straight for her back. Red and blue lights met each other, and both fizzled away to nothingness. She looked back at Regulus to see him nod in her direction, before her attention was captured by the battle once more. They'd come to fight with them; with Barty. With her.

This seemed to anger their attackers, whose spells began to fly with more aggression, in quicker succession. It became more of an exertion to keep up with them, but there were more of them, now, and they were making progress. Luna's heart began to open up to hope and determination as she battled skillfully, focused on herself and her own experience, blacking out those around her.

Until she saw the wand of a cloaked figure point out of the window, just as a flash of light from the storm brightened the room. The dark magic the figure commanded was none Luna had encountered before as it captured the power of the storm within its boundaries, redirecting it towards the battle. Luna struggled to keep up with what was going on; it seemed to her as if everything was happening at a million miles an hour, and she was helpless to stop any of it. She looked to her father, where he was fighting with prowess, sweat gleaming on his brow. She saw the bright white light reach him. She watched his head turn, his eyes seeking out hers one last time. She watched him fall, and it felt to her as if she'd fallen with him.

As tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over the edge, she heard the laughter of his killer. The sound helped her summon the energy and strength not to break. There was still a battle to be fought; still lives worth saving. There was still someone laughing at heartbreak, and for the first time in her life, the desire to end someone's laughter forever caught in Luna's spirit, and she hit back with a vengeance.

* * *

A/N: So, we're here at the penultimate chapter for Flying Lessons, and I must say, though I know (more or less) what's going to happen in the next chapter, this story doesn't feel finished yet. I think the next chapter will tie up a few loose ends, but I feel like there's a lot more I can do with this, from this point forward, and there are some interesting dynamics that haven't been explored. Basically, there's a possibility of a sequel if I can find the time. I hope I can. Anyway, let me know what you thought of this one :)


	12. Breaking

Written for Flying Lessons at Hogwarts, for the prompts: (location) The Astronomy Tower and (dialogue) "I hope you always find a reason to smile."

Words: 1547

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Breaking**

Luna had a million questions she wanted to ask when the fighting was over, but she couldn't make her lungs breathe deeply enough to give her time to form them. Her throat hurt as if it had swollen; as if a lump had formed that her voice couldn't make its way around. Her lips were pulled together too tightly for words to force their way past, as if they knew that if they weren't held together they'd fall apart, shatter with the rest of her feeble form into a million tiny parts, like heartbreak was real, only it wasn't just her heart that was breaking – it was everything she was. Everything she'd ever been and everything she ever would be. The foundations she'd built herself on had crumbled to sand, as if the slightest breeze could take her down.

Barty said nothing as he took her hand with one hand and wrapped his free arm around her shoulders: firm and supportive, but not too tight. She didn't quite feel close to breaking.

"Barty, we need you," Regulus called quietly from further down the corridor. Luna's father wasn't the only one who'd died, and parts of the castle were in ruins. They needed all the help they could get to tend to the wounded and rebuild, so that life could carry on as normal.

Barty nodded, but didn't move. He should help; he wanted to help. He didn't want to leave Luna.

She drew in a deep breath and steadied herself, testing her throat before breathily forcing her voice to work. "I'll go to the Astronomy Tower," she told him.

She wanted to help herself, but she just couldn't calm herself down. She didn't know how to be strong now, and she'd be of no use. So, really, there was only one place she could go to feel safe and secure. The place she'd spent many an hour as a student, staring at the stars and giving herself time.

"Are you sure?" he asked, stroking a delicate hand down her damp cheek. She only nodded, squeezed his hand and began to walk away.

* * *

At the top of the spiral staircase, Luna pushed the classroom door open and felt a strange sense of relief wash over her when she saw that the room looked almost exactly as it had last time she saw it. Instinctively, she headed to the fourth microscope, knowing it was looser on its hinges than the others and could be more easily pushed out of the way. She smiled to herself a little when it did as she expected. Sitting on the windowsill, she didn't look down. She knew how high it was – she didn't need a reminder. Instead, she looked to the sky, lit by the twinkling of a thousand stars, the glint and gleam of a hundred torches in the castle and the waning moon. Breathing in deeply, she let the sadness fill her with its dark light once more as the tears fell afresh.

She felt guilty. She knew from her training before she began volunteering at the hospital that the guilt was normal. It didn't help anything. She couldn't help but think she should have seen past their recent differences when he couldn't. She should have been dutiful instead of ignorant, and gone to see him on Sundays like she always had. She shouldn't have stopped. She didn't even remember what the last words she said to him were. Things were probably better that way, she reasoned.

She closed her eyes, resting her head back against the cold wall and cried. By the time Barty came to find her, her sobs were dry and her joints ached. She had no tears left, and she was tired and cold, but she was in no rush to move. He said nothing as he walked over and sat in the windowsill opposite her, looking at her, waiting for her.

"Sorry I wasn't able to help," she said, gravel in her voice.

"There was more than enough of us."

"What do we know? Who were they?" she asked.

"Luna, you don't have to be strong now if you're not ready. There are other people taking control of the situation. You can have time to grieve," Barty responded gently, reminding her she had a choice.

"I know. I want to. I want the distraction, the normality. I want to make sure no one else goes through this. Let me help," she argued back, finding more strength than she knew she was capable of at the moment.

"Okay. Well, it was mainly old Death Eaters and their kids. We think it was a protest, and a warning. Your father was speaking of the last war, of the winning side and of what they fought for – as well as why it was worth fighting for. They didn't seem to like it. They're still clinging to the old ideals, and willing to fight for it once more. But they're dangerous, make no mistake. They're organised, and there's more of them than we saw tonight. We've got another war coming. What we really need to know is who they're rallying around," Barty explained, though looking at her for signs of her grief the whole time. He was trying to help her, in whatever way she wanted, but he didn't want to push her too far.

Luna nodded gravely, taking his words in with a calculating expression, as if she was trying to make sense of it and fill in any blanks with her own understanding of things. "And Regulus? And Adhara? Have you spoken to them? Why did they fight with us?"

"They're not bad people, Luna. Not at heart. But yes, I spoke to them. They'd both been threatened. It seems I was a recruitment target, but not if I was with you. They were testing us, trying to break us up. Adhara has a daughter, and they threatened the child if she didn't come between us. She did, and it didn't work. So they found Regulus. They threatened his life and mine if he didn't try to separate us. They were sure that would work. It didn't. But Reg and Addy were left alone, until they got the tip off about tonight. They wanted you and me here. They didn't expect them to join us."

Luna had to admit, the explanation made sense. Adhara and Regulus were Slytherins, after all, and if Slytherins knew anything it was self-preservation.

"So, what you're saying is, there's not only another war, but we're right in the middle of it?" Luna asked, a ghost of a smile passing over her lips. "Just like old times," she added.

"You don't have to be, you know. It's me they want, not you," Barty told her, looking out over the grounds of the ancient school.

"What do you mean?" Luna asked, suddenly fearful.

"I mean things haven't ever been easy for us. There's always been something going on, something making life difficult for us, even from the start. But it was never something as big as a war. And after today, and everything that you've lost… I understand if it's all too much. It's okay if it's all too much," he told her.

"I think that's the most selfless thing I've ever heard you say," Luna replied, a playful smile on her lips for just a moment. She looked at the microscope beside her, considering how it could make far away objects appear so much closer than they really were.

"When you're high up, like this, do you ever get scared you're going to fall?" she asked.

Barty leaned over the edge and looked down, seeing the ground so far beneath them. "No," he told her honestly.

"I do. Or at least, I did. Any time I feel like I'm too high, I wonder what's going to go wrong, and when. I don't know if it was the war that did it or if I've always been like that. What I'm trying to say is that I'm not scared now. Not anymore."

Barty quirked an eyebrow. "Can you be a little more explicit?"

Luna smiled. "You make me happy. We're happy together. Happiness makes me scared, sometimes, that it's not forever. But we've already been through so much. We've seen the dark times – no, our whole relationship was founded in the dark times, and they've only got worse. We've nearly said no so many times, nearly quit and given up. But we're still here. So I'm not afraid of falling anymore. I know that if we fall together, we'll get back up together, too."

Barty said nothing for a moment, only leaned in towards her and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

"I guess here's to endings, then," he commented.

"Can _you_ be a little more explicit?"

"The end of us worrying that the other might leave. The end of the jealousy and questioning. The end of doubting each other, and our trust. Let's say goodbye to all that. I promise I'll always love you. I promise that's enough," Barty told her.

"Even in the midst of all this darkness, I can smile about that," she responded, reaching out to take his hand in hers.

"I hope you always find a reason to smile."


End file.
